“Oh, and Georgia...”
I look up from Avery and back to her.
“Extra blankets are there. There’s cable, remote is there, and most importantly, there is wine in the minifridge.”
I stand up and walk over to her.
“Thank you. My real name is Nicola, by the way. Nicola Dawson,” I say and hold my hand out to formally meet her.
“I’m sorry?” Cora says, tilting her head in confusion. “Wha—I don’t...”
“I’m not Georgia. He wanted to make sure my family couldn’t find me, no one I loved could trace me, so...”
Cora closes her eyes and shakes her head, a compassionate and empathetic gesture, and then takes me in her arms and hugs me tight. “Oh, sweet girl. I’m so sorry.” She holds me for a long time and then says, “Nicola, I’ll be back soon.”
22
PAIGE
Paige waits for over an hour for Cora to get home. She periodically peers out the front window to see if her car appears in the drive and wonders where she is. When she sees Cora pull around back, she finds it odd. She pulls on a coat and picks up the box with Finn’s name on it with all of the things she’s collected from him inside it and walks over to Cora’s. She doesn’t see the lights on inside by the time she reaches the house, so she walks around back.
Cora is standing at the open hatch of her car unloading a bunch of bags.
“You bought diapers?” she asks, and Cora screams and drops the bag in her hand, whipping around in horror.
“Jesus!” She has to lean her hands on her knees to steady herself. “What the hell? You almost gave me a heart attack,” she says, panting for breath.
“Sorry. I saw you drive up. You said Finn was out of town and we should do wine tonight. I was supposed to come over like an hour ago,” Paige says.
“Oh, God. Sorry. His trip got canceled and then I guess I forgot.”
“Anything I should know?” Paige says, eyeing the box of diapers.
“Ha. No, just a charity-drive thing. Come on in. I’ll get this stuff later,” Cora says, quickly closing the hatch and leading Paige inside.
“Wait, if Finn ended up staying home, we can reschedule.”
“Oh, he went out,” she says, and they go inside. Cora pulls a bottle of white out of the fridge and grabs two glasses. Paige thinks she seems nervous, like she’s working hard to act normal. But she still has to do what she came to do. She watches Cora anxiously move around the kitchen, plugging in her phone, searching for something in the snack cupboard and then finally noticing the box Paige is carrying.
“What’s all that?” she asks.
“Is Mia home?” Paige asks, and Cora looks a bit confused.
“No, she went to a friend’s. What’s up?”
“I have to talk to you about something, and it’s—I don’t really even know where to begin, but you need to know and there’s—”
“What?” Cora cuts her off. “You found something. With Finn, you ended up finding something,” she says, her face draining of color. Paige doesn’t know if that’s the place to begin, but she answers anyway.
“I did. I’m sorry.”
Cora stands, a blank look on her face, pours a glass of wine, and goes to sit on the couch. After a minute, Paige follows.
“There’s a little more to it, and I need you to hear me out.” She puts the box on the coffee table and takes out the photos. First the hooker, then the one of Charlotte and Finn close but not too close at the ball, and then the printouts of the emails between them that fill in any gaps the photos don’t show. Cora looks at them. She picks up the stack of emails and pages through with a numb look in her eye. She doesn’t cry. She sets them down.
“Well, I guess I already knew, didn’t I? Of course he’s cheating.”
“I’m so sorry, Cor,” Paige says.
